Edge
by Sayble
Summary: Crazy stuff happens sometimes. What if your home was a place you've never been to?
1. Judgement

_Why do you wish to join the League?_

_I don't really know, something led me here, something that told me I would find someone I know._

_And what was that?_

_My gut, probably. Maybe I had too much to eat before going here. Heh._

_Do not hide your feelings from us, for we can see through you, like the veil before the void._

_Oh yeah? And what do you see in this "veil" of yours?_

_Melancholy is a weakness, why cling on to a past long gone?_

_What did you say?_

_A wistful past is the equivalent to a disastrous future._

_Who do you think you are? Don't go acting like some guru of knowledge around me! I never wanted this you pretentious bastard._

_..._

_Hey! Answer me!_

_Gawain..._

_W-what? Who's there?_

_This is our only chance, the only chance we've got._

_Jack?!_

_We gotta go, the portal... It's open_

_Jack! Where are you! Let's get the hell out of here!_

_This is the moment we've been waiting for, grab my hand and lets step on through._

_Jack you don't know whats going to happen, stop!_

_There's no going back Gawain, we can't go back_

_JACK!_

_See you on the other side buddy._

_..._

_Why do you wish to join the League?_

_..._

**_To see my home again._**

**_To find the only person on this godforsaken place who still gives a damn about my well being_**

**_I'll find you Jack._**

**_I swear it._**

_..._

_How does it feel having your mind exposed?_

_Relieved, I guess... You're wrong about one thing, though._

_Oh?_

_It isn't nostalgia I'm looking for._

_It's revelation._

**And the voices stopped. The doors began to inch open, huge stone slabs that gave way, slowly, light spilled in, bathing the room in light, **

**illuminating the statues, casting away the darkness.**

...

_Welcome to the League of legends_


	2. Morning

**The Alchemist**

* * *

"We have a new arrival, general, they call him the Alchemist"

The velvet curtains parted to reveal two figures of Noxian apparel. Near the window, the moonlight shone through, illuminating the features of the

Noxian general.

A clean shaven head save for a very short tuft of hair that had cascaded vertically across his scalp. Velvet and gold trimmings had adorned his

overcoat,

a walking cane. A stocky build. Tall. the Noxian general carried the air of self assurance, the eyes of a ruthless ambitionist...

And a monstrosity of a crow that bore multiple pairs of eyes. It screeched loudly in response to the mans presence, who swallowed nervously behind

him.

A pause.

"I see, have you any other intel on the subject?"

The general spoke with a cold monotone that beheld impatience, the man shook his head, even though the general had his back turned and couldn't

possibly see the negative action. The crow eyed the man with its cruel eyes, scrutinizing him for the slightest sign of weakness, something done

many a time to disobedient and unreliable spies before him, and with deadly results.

"He has just an hour ago passed the judgement and has yet to make contact with anyone inside of the institution. That said, he was swift to deny

a tour of the area and requested an immediate escort to his chambers. Nothing else has been seen of him yet."

The general nodded absently, thoughts clearly had wondered off to something grander in scale, something involving a political standoff between

the leaders of Freljord and Noxus. He knew this fresh arrival could not be a threat, not yet anyway.

However, keeping eyes open for any and all incoming champions that could possibly be deemed fit for a Noxian assimilation was always favorable,

both for him and his faction.

Just another nobody I don't need to worry about.

With a wave, he dismissed the man, who's features were hidden under the hood of his purple robes.

"That is satisfactory, summoner, now return to your post, I have many things to attend to."

"Of course, General Swain, for Noxus." With a bow, the man retreated backwards and headed outside of the chamber room, letting the large double

doors close with a sharp creak.

* * *

**Morning**, **The institution of war**

A sharp, bell-like sound reverberated throughout the cozy room and jolted the young man from his peaceful slumber.

"Gah! Holy shit that's loud" With a groan, he reached over and slapped the contraption, knocking it off the wooden table it had been perched upon,

casting the resounding object to the ground, where it lay silently, turned off by his touch or from the sheer impact of the fall, Gawain was too tired

to care, simply cursed and mumbled for a bit before sitting up, groggy eyed.

Taking a moment to yawn, stretch and rub his eyes, Gawain took in his surroundings.

The room was nice, not much different from those hotels back at home, except more purple. Lots of purple actually.

Streams of purple cloth, purple decor, purple ceiling, purple patterns on the wall. Jesus, whoever was in charge of aesthetic design here sure

had a taste for the vibrant, or maybe he was color blind, who cares.

Outside, someone knocked politely on the chamber entrance doors.

*Tap tap*

"Hello?" The voice was recognizably male, characterized by a deep vocal baritone.

Gawain was not a morning person. To be forced out of sleep at this hour was insane. He looked outside of the

huge window view that graced the left side of his bed.

"It's morning all right" He muttered under his breath, more out of annoyance then an actual statement regarding what time it was.

Another knock on the door, this time slightly louder.

*Tap tap*

"Alright alright I'm coming, geeze I'm up guy."

He steeled himself for the uncomfortable sensation of getting up and staggered to the other side of the room. Still slightly groggy, and a little

annoyed, he pulled at a mysterious contraption that he imagined was the door knob, and slowly parted the entrance doors.

The first thing Gawain noticed was just how _frail_ the man draped in purple robes was. Compared to this guy, Gawain might as well be an Olympic body builder.

Mind you, Gawain also never liked to do anything strenuous, more of the indoor type he had explained time and time again to others.

In terms of size, the summoner was also extremely tall, easily towering over Gawain by an entire head and a half. The guy was easily 6'8, like a behemoth or

something.

"Er, did you just call me a behemoth?"

The summoner frowned, Gawain had realized he was thinking out loud.

"Well damn, you're pretty tall to be honest..."

An awkward silence perspired. Swiftly broken by the summoner's professional mannerisms.

"Ahem, I was brought here to tour you throughout the institution. Seeing as you were too exhausted the other night, we had decided to allow you

a good portion of rest before carrying on with the initiation process."

Damn. Gawain was silently hoping that he had simply feigned sleep and never opened the door. Not that he disliked the summoner, he was pretty

curt. Gawain liked curt. The more short things were, the faster things could be done, and the less time was wasted.

However in this case, he was hoping that things were not curt. Things were happening too fast, he needed more sleep, hell, he had tossed and

turned for a good couple hours only to be woken up by that stupid alarm clock in the wee hours of the dawn.

That, and he was nervous.

Really nervous.

"Well, could I at least get a couple more hours of sleep?"

The summoner shook his head, features portraying no form of sympathy for the young man.

With a sigh of resignation, he stretched his neck and rolled his shoulder.

"Well damn, alright guy, give me a minute to put on some clothing, because uh, I don't want you staring at my junk."

It had come to both of their terms that Gawain slept nude. He liked nude, felt natural.

The summoner bashfully turned his face away hurriedly, attempted to save face and closed the door swiftly for Gawain to change into some clothing.

Gawain was unaware that he had caused the summoner years of mental scarring and psychological reestablishment, but upon opening the door

wearing blue Jeans and a white T Shirt, the summoner betrayed none of this and respectfully stepped out onto the hallway.

"Shall we proceed champion?"

At this, he could only scoff in apprehension of the title.

"Did you just call me champion? What'd I do save your sister from some guy on the street?"

There was no emotive response. It was like talking to a brick wall.

"The institution requires us to address our subjects with the title Champion or their first names if preferred by the subject." Came the impassive

reply.

Well there was no way he was going to walk around being called champion all the time. That shit just sounded stupid.

"Hey, just call me Gawain, guy, you can call me asshole if you like, since that's what people on the freeway usually call me anyway."

If there was a jest involved, the summoner did not catch wind of it.

"Jesus, you're like a stone."

"Actually, I am a summoner of the 30th rank, I-"

"Yeah, yeah I was just kidding, I know you work here obviously, do you guys even have freeways here?"

Again, no change or emotive response from the summoner, save for a small raise of the eyebrows.

"Freeway? I am not familiar with a "freeway" that you speak of."

He wanted to face palm himself and the summoner for the sake of sanity. It was clearly a joke, how did he not...

"Just lead on, I'll be right behind you buddy." With a swift nod, the robed man began a surprisingly brisk stride down the hallway, leaving Gawain

in tow, forced to jog a bit to catch up with the summoner.

"Holy hell this guy's fast."

As he strove to catch up in stride, he glimpsed several other similarly dressed figures going from place to place, hallway to hallway, door to door. It

seemed that each person here was extremely busy.

They walked for a couple minutes, the hallway scenery quickly faded as they strode out onto what seemed to be a courtyard. The morning sun

bathed the marble flooring white, the shrubbery surrounding the large fountain that had a statue depicting some unknown warrior with a hand

and a half short sword fighting an unseen threat bristled with life, birds flew from every which direction. The faint chattering of summoners and

the like, the chirping of the birds.

Gawain looked around in awe. In his entire life, he had never seen such a stereotypical fantasy setting.

"_This is what we dreamed of, Gawain."_

He shook his head, quickly clearing the thought. Now wasn't the time to get too caught up in stuff like that. Lose yourself in the unknown and you

very well might get dragged down and smothered.

They continued to walk through the courtyard, Gawain still trailing behind the summoner.

"Hey, guy, I never bothered to ask for your name, mind telling me? Calling you guy is getting pretty boring." They walked down a set of stairs, Gawain realized that he

was on the third floor of a huge building. Looking up, he realized just how massive the place was.

"It's a marvelous sight isn't it? A masterwork of human creation. Nothing even comes close to the architecture that has brought forth the institute of war."

It was bigger then the skyscrapers back in New York.

"Holy shit..." He tried to bring a thumb out in order to block the building, but it was impossible. The building was simply too massive to blot out.

"You may call me Sayble, although summoner will suffice."

As if reading his thoughts, the summoner continued

"Currently we are residing on the third floor, also known as the cafeteria. This is where you will eat and possibly converse with other members of the institution,

champion or otherwise."

At this, Gawain started.

He wasn't the kind of guy to socialize. Being an alchemist did that to people.

The mention of food, however, caused his stomach to growl, **loudly.**

"I see you haven't eaten recently, perhaps we should stay for breakfast, excuse my carelessness, they had neglected to mention this one small detail."

"Eh, sure, I could use a little bit of food, why not." He railed off casually, still following the summoner towards a large set of stone doors that led into a mess hall.

In truth, Gawain hadn't eaten anything save for yesterday's lunch, the prospect of food goaded him on eagerly.

The idea of conversing with other champions, however, sounded horrible. He hadn't even gotten used to his bed, let alone other _people._

Runes began to glow on the stone door slabs as they slid soundlessly open.

As they walked into the mess hall, Gawain could see them.

Dozens of champions. All different shapes, sizes. They were an odd sort.

His eyes widened at the sight of a giant rock at the table, no... Rocks couldn't sit... rather...

The "rock" so happened to move and talk and have eyes and sat across from a peculiar looking...girl?

What the hell was going on here?

As they moved across the tables, Gawain could feel eyes boring into the back of his head.

He could hear them whisper as he slid around another table...

"Who is he?"

"Never seen him around before...is he the rookie?"

A loud, booming laugh ripped across the mess hall. Much to his surprise, no one paid any attention, as if this was simply the norm around these parts.

Turning towards the sound, Gawain eyed a huge, red faced man who's belt size was bursting with his girth, barely able to contain the amount of alcohol he had

obviously been consuming.

For he had not simply been drinking, there lay beside the man and another chuckling, albeit masked person was a barrel that he assumed was a keg.

"Here, take this voucher and hand it to the construct at the end of the mess hall. You're still not considered a champion and so you will need it to receive a meal."

The summoner's voice snapped him back into reality. Looking back, he realized that the summoner had left him and was probably waiting respectfully outside.

"Shit...Please don't ditch me now guy." A groan.

Another stomach growl. Gawain silently wished he had eaten the night before. Hastily, he began to approach the mechanical construct with the runic certificate.

"Errr, what can I get with this?" He didn't know what to expect as he waved the paper awkwardly in front of the pylon.

There was no response. The construct simply stood inanimate, completely oblivious to his attempts, much to Gawain's growing frustration.

"...Hello? Goddammit, what the hell am I supposed to do?" He tried looking for an opening in which to insert the voucher, however there was none in which he could

observe. The object lay completely unusable to Gawain.

He began to panic. Turning, he realized some persons had stopped conversing or eating and were looking directly at him.

A rising urge to kick the stupid thing was becoming an increasingly tempting matter, however, Gawain restrained himself and turned an exasperated head towards the

inanimate object.

He tried rubbing the paper on the construct. Nothing.

Pleading, asking, begging the construct for food. No response, only the cold metallic hum emanating from its core was fit for answer.

All the while, his actions had garnered more and more attention from the mess hall attendees, some of which eyed him nervously as he swore and psychotically

attempted to reason with the machine.

Minutes later, after exhausting all possible options, Gawain lost his temper.

"Gah!" With a frustrated stream of curses, he let loose with a kick that shook the entire construct.

Wrong thing to do. Gawain started as the thing whirred to life, instantly glowing red and spinning rapidly

"Hostile action detected, defensive protocols initiated"

His eyes widened at the statement, "Oh what the fu-"

A metal fist had knocked the wind out of his chest and he landed on his back, dazed from the blow.

"God...dammit." He allowed himself to lay, eyes directly facing the ceiling.

He silently cursed himself as he slowly returned to his senses."Serves you right, idiot, what did you expect from kicking the darn thing?"

Arching his neck back, he saw a couple of eyes returning his upside down stare, still sitting with food in hand and concern on their faces.

"Defeated by a food dispenser?! Hah! You really are something else knave!" Dully, Gawain knew the person was standing beside him, however he didn't bother to

look, or rather, was simply too embarrassed to.

The first thing he noted, however, was the shrillness of the voice. It sounded...off, like someone had a scratchy throat and decided to let it stick.

An odd way to talk.

"You know, you don't touch the thing you fool, you use the runic inscription on the paper, like _this."_

Turning, he made out a short figure picking up the paper that he had apparently dropped from the impact and had begun to say a stream of inaudible words.

Seconds later, the construct shook and turned blue. Much to his surprise, a metal fist did not appear and smite the small figure, rather, a cylindrical

opening appeared at the top of the metal object, in which a complete meal was ready made, steaming from whatever means was used to conjure such a thing.

Magic.

"Hey! What do you know! Thanks, that was pretty nice of you to help." But the figure had already huffed and was walking away.

He hastily grabbed his food and made for an isolated table in the corner of the room, much to avoid the attention

of everyone else, some of whom had eyed him wearily as he slid between chatting champions.

A quick glance gave him an idea of just how _diverse _the institute was. Half of these people didn't even look human, let alone sane.

There was a jester that was playing five finger filet with a rather wary looking female. Much to her protests, the jester placed her hand on the table and stabbed the

knife into her palm. With a yelp, she threw him off, only to realize the knife had no blade. The jester laughed loudly, while the female sighed and placed a hand

on her head.

"Did you see that guy? He couldn't even get the food dispenser to work, the thing whacked him good!" It was a blonde male, eagerly chatting with a burly figure

wielding a...lamppost? They averted his gaze as he walked by their table.

"Poor kid, I hope he isn't the new recruit, otherwise he's _boned _when the actual matches start"

He swallowed. "Matches? No one told me about fighting people in the institute. Jesus, what the hell is going on here?"

Finally, he found a secluded seat and took a spot next to the wall.

Placing the food down, he began to eat, taking a piece of meat here, chewing some green stuff there. He didn't recognize any of it, although for some reason it all

looked and apparently tasted pretty good. Gawain deduced that magic was probably involved.

Halfway throughout his meal, Gawain heard a voice.

"Have you found this place suitable?"

Looking up, he realized it was the summoner, his clear eyes made even contact as he slowly took a seat on the other side of the table, hands folded respectfully.

"Yeah, pretty dandy, you didn't tell me _that_ would happen with the dispenser, though."

"Did it hit you?"

"Yeah, got a pretty good one in too." Gawain motioned towards his bruised chest

"I see, apologies, I was not aware that you were unable to utilize runic inscriptions."

"A what?"

"I was under the pretense that you were able to use magic."

Gawain took another bite from the salad, chewed slowly as he mulled over the statement, sagely holding a fork in the air as he swallowed.

"Is that what they told you?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm definitely not able to throw fireballs or summon some crazy shit if that's what you're after." He began to laugh, although the summoner's gaze did not waver

from the question.

"So what can you do?"

Gawain froze mid bite. Slowly placing the meat back onto the plate, he realized that the blonde champion and his lamp post wielding companion had coincidentally

changed tables and had taken the one adjacent to his and were "idly chatting" although he knew clear eavesdropping when he saw it.

"Stuff, I guess, I don't really know actually."

"They call you the alchemist, our Judgement overview tells us that you are capable of ripping through the walls of reality and bending the laws of physics to your will.

"It's not that simple."

"Nothing ever is."

"I know that, but look, you think doing stuff like that is an offhand thing? I just got my ass pasted by some food dispenser and now you expect me to go bending

reality and shit?"

The summoner remained unfazed as Gawain waved the fork around knowingly.

"Alchemy has rules, you know. The first thing is, you never do shit unless you have something to balance the scales, you know? You can't just fucking blow something

up for free, there's always a cost to something, same thing with alchemy."

"A tribute you mean?

"Yeah, like an eye for an eye. You ever try opening a door with another person pulling on the other side? If he's stronger then you, door's gonna stay shut, vice

versa, you get out, if you guys are equal strength, the door stays as is."

A pause as the summoner quietly digested the information, eyes facing the table while Gawain took another bite from his salad.

"So are you telling me that your abilities are limited by what you have at hand?"

"Wow you catch on pretty quick, that's exactly what I mean."

The summoner named Sayble continued to stare at the table, again processing the information while Gawain ravenously finished the rest of the meal.

"So you lied about not being able to throw fireballs?" There was a glint in his eye as he said this. The bastard was smart, he knew what he was capable of.

Another pause. Gawain realized that the blonde haired champion and the masked guy had stopped chatting, rather, they seemed to be eagerly listening, completely

aloof to any sort of subtlety at this point.

"Again, that depends on the resources I have at hand. Nothing in alchemy is free, everything requires a price."

"Equal exchange."

This guy was smart, really smart. How the hell did he know about that one law? Was alchemy a widespread thing here? Maybe he wasn't as unique as he thought.

Gawain looked down, only to realize that he had munched through all of his food.

The summoner saw this too, and had stood up.

"I'll show you through the rest of the institute, then we will prepare for your first match."

Match...

Gawain had heard someone saying that as he made his way over to the table...

"_He's boned when the actual matches_ start."

Fighting...Gawain never liked fighting, but if it brought him that much closer to Jack, then he'd do it.

"Oh boy, alright, guy, lets go." They turned towards the exit, leaving the mess hall, and two very excited champions behind.


	3. Gallant Gawain

Gallant Gawain

* * *

A rather spacious room decorated with purple and gold. The windows had been shut with the curtains closed. Three champions chattered excitedly,

one two lay on the bed, while one had taken to leaning on the purple wall.

"Did you see him?" It was a female with blonde hair, her blue eyes shone wildly as a grin plastered itself onto her face. Normally she would have

worn

a shirt and jeans, however this particular individual had just exited a league match and was still clad in battle robes with mail plating, the Damacian

allegiance symbol engraved unto her combat buckle.

The other individual, a blonde male adorned with a loose fitting travelers shirt and pants, with a checkered undershirt and yellow trimmings that

matched his hair responded with a thumbs up.

"Yup, me and Jax over there heard him talking about this alchemy stuff, something about equal exchange and..."

"And tearing reality apart." Finished the burly masked man. The lamppost he always carried about had been lain quietly by the

bedside, easily within reach had he needed to react quickly. His features beside his heavy build were undetectable underneath all the purple clothing

he wore, save for the gloved hands that had an odd number of fingers, 3 to be exact, that lay crossed over his chest as he rested by the wall.

"I wouldn't get ahead of myself though, for all we know this guy could just be all talk and no bite, hell, remember seeing his ass getting kicked by

the food dispenser Ez? As far as I've seen, he doesn't look like much regardless of what we've heard."

"Really? I didn't even know the dispenser could do that!" The female exclaimed.

"Heh, me neither, I had to see it myself to actually believe all those stories about the killer food dispenser" Jax uncrossed his arms and slowly hefted

the lamppost over his shoulder, the light winking on as he did so.

"Well, I got a match soon, I'll see you all later on in the day." And with that, he pulled the panel leading outside of the chamber and exited.

"Okay smell ya later Jax!"

"I heard that." Came the outside reply.

A pause.

"What did he look like?" Lux pressed on, hands between crossed legs as she leaned forward eagerly.

"Well, he had brown hair, brown eyes...pretty average if you ask me, nothing compared to myself of course!" He flashed a smile, obviously

embezzled by his own looks and youthful appearance.

"How old was he?"

"I guess around my age, he _looks _like a young adult, but who knows how old he _really _is, you know, maybe he could make himself immortal or

something, I don't know." Ez sat there as Lux digested the information, eyebrows scrunched in a ponderous position as she cast her gaze toward

the ceiling, stroking her imaginary thinking mustache.

"Did you catch his name?"

At this, Ez really couldn't remember. It hadn't come up often and he wasn't paying attention to those specific details...

"Er, I think it went something like Garen-"

"Eww! Not my brother! That's gross!"

"I mean like Gareth, Gairth, Gain, Gane? Maybe that was it..."

* * *

_Have you ever thought about a world with magic?_

_What? No way, that's impossible._

_What if it was real?_

_Magic isn't real, Jack, c'mon we've talked about this before._

_But it is real! Remember when that guy made that bunny disappear in a hat? That was so cool!_

_That was a magic __**trick **__Jack, a __**trick**__, not real magic._

_You're no fun._

_Aww sorry for being Mr. realistic_

_Maybe when we grow up we can be wizards, just like in the fairy tails!_

_Hah, funny..._

_It's not funny, you'll see, we'll be fighting dragons and other warriors and fireball throwing mages and-_

_Gawain._

_Jack?_

_No, it is I, Sayble, are you well?_

He looked up, they were outside. A training field for champions to hone and demonstrate their skills. A vast expanse of rolling green and a meadow that blanketed

the entire horizon lie in the backdrop, the evening sun hung low, a sure sign that the day was fading quickly.

"Are you well?" The summoner repeated, his hood hung low over the eyes, the purple robe bristled in the evening wind, he solemnly stood, calmly waiting for

Gawain to recover. His great size cast a large silhouette against the horizon, the shadow drawn across the rolling hills like a marionette with strings.

A minute passed as they stood in the fields.

Gawain straightened up, shook his legs and rolled his shoulders a couple times to test their joints. "Sorry, it's just been all that damn walking we made today, I

really should get into shape sometime."

Of course this wasn't true, although Gawain was a rather slender figure, the three years spent in Runeterra had hardened him into someone that

was a far cry from whom he had been in the past.

Sayble cocked an eyebrow under the low set hood. "Who is Jack? If I not am mistaken you were referring to someone else besides me, you seem to be

distracted, rather then exerted."

This guy could see right through him, spouting out random names didn't help his cause either.

"It's just some guy I used to know, nothing that important."

The summoner continued to look skeptical, but sensed tension on the subject and turned back towards the meadow.

"So...why are we here?" He motioned towards the huge outcropping of hills and grass.

As of today, Gawain had known only three things: One, he was part of the institute of war, two, he was supposedly

a newly recruited champion fit for duty, and three, they had information on someone he was looking for, with "they" carrying an extremely vague reference."

A swelling of emotion erupted from his chest. Frustration.

It all felt so damn _pointless. _What was he doing here? He was wasting time, there was literally nothing done here that felt productive.

Gawain understood absolutely nothing that had transpired between today and yesterday, when he had stumbled into the institution, following cookie crumbs that had

taken him _three years _to assimilate and follow.

He was under the assumption that the institute was some kind of giant lost and found where they manipulated and gathered data from various regions, like an

information broker or something similar.

"We are here to test your abilities. As of yet, no one, I, nor the institute has witnessed your combat prowess. As we have a match scheduled soon, it will do you no

good to hide your skills from us."

"But why? What does the institute actually _do?!_ I didn't come here to fight for your pleasure if that's what you're asking.

He didn't like what he heard so far. Combat was an everyday thing here on Runeterra, a borderline war zone everywhere he went.

But to think that the institute was simply a glorified arena with nonstop warfare...

"You misunderstand our purpose." Came the impassive reply. "The institute promotes peace through battles that dictate political decisions. We do not force

you to fight under the pretense that battle is simply a past time for a healthy viewer base.

Another pause, Sayble continued to look out unto the descending horizon, he bowed his head solemnly, hood fell back to reveal his sharp features.

"So why the hell are we fighting?!" Teeth gritted, fists clenched. There was no immediate answer as Sayble continued to stare off vacantly. deep in thought.

Gawain continued, egged on by fury and confusion.

"If peace is truly something you all strive to achieve, why settle disputes with the one thing you _say _is taboo?! All I see

is a bunch of damn hypocrites! I like you guy, but this is just too much, yeah?! " He was sick of it. Sick of this nonstop bloodshed, the more he spent learning about

this place, the more he wanted to get out.

Three years of warfare lead him here, in pursuit of the one person who had left him with so many questions unanswered.

"It seems to me that you are unfamiliar with how our political system works."

"What?"

"Runeterra has kept a very precarious balance through this system, it is simply not feasible to come to political agreement through other, more peaceful means."

"But why?! Why can't you all just get along like a bunch of normal human beings?!"

"That depends on what you mean by "normal."

"What?!" What kind of world was this?! the three years he had spent here, maybe this was reality after all.

"This is the norm, champion, combat is an everyday fact of life, the political factions have a long run history of dispute and war, solving matters through peaceful

discussion alone would be impossible, hence the reason the institution was created, and hence it's role from that point on."

"And you're supposed to tell me that this actually works?!"

Gawain could make out a small upward curl on his lips.

"Yes."

Silence.

Slowly, Gawain looked up. The summoner now stood facing him, back to the horizon, eyes boring into the depths of his soul it seemed, scrutinizing him, analyzing him,

eyebrows furrowed, thoughtful and ponderous.

After a moment, Sayble spoke.

"It seems, that you need an education on how our world works."

The rest of the evening was spent learning of the far reaching Noxians, who's totalitarian rule was absolute, expansionist policies culled only by the opposing

Damacian regime, who's ideals conflicted directly with the aggressive stance of the Noxian faction. As of such, they had been at war until only recently, and even then,

tensions between members still remained high.

Then came the peaceful Ionians, who's war ravaged lands have slowly recovered from the biochemical terrors unleashed by a very recent Noxian invasion, the scars

of their past buried underneath their peaceful ideologies.

The Freljord, a far off land with only frigid wind and subzero temperatures almost all year round, were home to the most nomadic tribes and seclusive civilizations

known to Runeterra, however political moves for unification had brought them together and now they had their own place in the League of legends, fighting under

the Freljordian banner in the name of their primary leaders Ashe and Tryndamere, the current rulers of their factions.

Then came Piltover and Bandle city, an intercourse of trade thrived between these technological powerhouses. Like the Ionians, they harbored no hate and strove to

remain neutral even as external influence attempts to sway their goals toward one side or another.

He also learned of the peculiar race of Yordles, an extremely small subset of humanoids that were extremely intelligent and as such, were known for their spectacular

inventions in their homes of Piltover and Bandle city.

The institute of war was a central, political battleground in which separate factions could battle in what was known as the fields of justice, in which the victor was

given a new subset of rules concerning their faction.

A competitive system that ensured a strained, yet feasible relationship between all Runeterran ideologies.

By the time all possible information given could be exhausted, the sun had set, enveloping the hills under a black silhouette, only the slight build of their figures

could have been recognized under the shade, the wind had stopped, leaving only a dead quiet in its wake.

A chuckle.

"It seems that we've run out of time, I suppose we can continue tomorrow, maybe next time we can practice in the fields of-"

"WHO TREADS UPON MY TERRITORY AT THIS HOUR?! SPEAK BEFORE I CARVE A HOLE FOR YOUR IMPUDENCE!"

Gawain started, off in the distance stood a massive, hulking humanoid. In the darkness, he could make out a long snout, a tail...

The eyes, a reptilian edge in the way they were shaped, the pupils, glowing red with a fury the likes he had never seen.

Was he like this all the time? If so, that was one pissed off individual.

Whatever it was, Gawain deduced that it clearly couldn't be human, the claws gripped a huge weapon, a glaive that alone measured a third of his size. The edges

shone with runic power, the sheen of its blade glistened in the rising moonlight.

"Damn, I was hoping that this wouldn't happen." The summoner muttered, lips pursed, he faced the Reptile, a respectful bow.

"Greetings, Renekton, with all due respect it was not our intention to trespass at this hour. I fear time has slipped my notice, however, we will be on our way short-"

"IMPUDENCE! DO NOT SPEAK TO ME WITH YOUR IRRITATING CONDESCENSION, HUMAN, ALL I SEE BEFORE MY EYES IS TWO SLABS OF MEAT, READY FOR THE CHOPPING

BLOCK!"

Sayble bristled, his eyes betrayed no sense of fear, features remained impassive despite Renekton's imposing presence.

"The price for injuring champions and summoners is high, including incrimination and expulsion from the league, you will never find your brother Nas-"

"DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME, HUMAN! FOR YOU CANNOT POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND THE GRIEF HE HAS SOWED UNTO MY SOUL, MY TORMENTED EXISTENCE CONTINUES ONLY

FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF DESTROYING HIM! AT HIS MENTION, YOU WILL DIE! ALL WILL DIE!

A loud roar, the reptilian figure silhouetted against the night sky, warglaive swept through the air as he dashed at impossibly fast speeds belying his massive

build, clawed feet bounding massive distances.

"Stay back, Gawain!" With a practiced motion, the summoner whipped his right hand forward and deftly drew multiple runic symbols in the night air, the index finger

leaving a trail of signs that began to glow white, the energy dissipated and suddenly a transparent, glowing barrier was erected to envelope the cloaked figure.

The blow connected, the energy burst as the warglaive struggled to break through his defense. The reptile snarled, eyes widened, maddened with an otherworldly

fury.

"AS I LIVE! ALL WILL DIE!" Renekton brutally hacked at the barrier, each blow causing streams of runic energy to fade, slowly weakening the barrier.

Gawain swept his gaze towards the summoner, who's face was grim with a steadfast determination.

The barrier looked strong, but something in his gut told him that the shield wouldn't hold for long.

Already, he could make out the sweat and the gritted teeth of the summoner, hands held out as he desperately held off the relentless attacks.

It couldn't be helped, he was going to have to use it. Left hand swept back, reaching for the tome in his back pocket.

"No! Run Gawain!" The summoner was looking at him, eyes wide as he shook his head frantically.

"What?! Are you crazy?! I'm not gonna leave you to die here, guy!" More blows hammered into the shield, forcing Sayble to his knees.

"You...can't, if you injure another champion, you will be expelled from the institute, I cannot allow that."

Everything in his gut screamed for him to help, she shield was fading fast, he knew Gawain wouldn't last another minute.

"I will ensure that the institute knows of this, but you must go." The summoner smiled weakly.

Time seemed to slow as the shield broke, the reptile grinned savagely, warglaive drawn back for one final blow.

No.

He wasn't about to let this happen, he'd seen enough shit on Runeterra to let another soul go down, not on his watch.

"Sorry, but your life is worth more then this stupid institute, guy..."

Then with one swift movement, Gawain drew the tome, left hand flipping open the pages with a fluid flick of his thumb.

"Lets kick this into overdrive, shall we?!"

"VA'AN RAI KET!"


	4. Technical Difficulties

_Jack! Stop!_

_What?!_

_What do you mean what? You're gonna fucking kill him, let him go!_

_Are you nuts?! I'm gonna finish what this bastard started!_

_No man, this doesn't mean that we have to kill a man in cold blood, give me the damn Tome, no one needs to get hurt ya moron!_

_Scum like him don't deserve to live, he just tried to take your life Gawain!_

_Scum like him don't have any other choice, Jack, lets just go and forget this shit ever happened._

_Don't you get it?! It's a kill or be killed world, Gawain. This isn't something we can just turn away from._

_Jack, no, there's far more to life then just a never-ending battleground, now let him go, Jesus!_

_Don't you speak to me like i'm some kid-_

_We are kids, Jack! Let's just fucking forget the whole thing, he's obviously too wounded to even move, thanks to you. The cops will be here any minute, it's not like there's _

_any __other exit from this warehouse he could possibly use anyway._

_If we let him go, he'll just start killing again, sick bastard he is._

_Let the fucking cops sort that out, we aren't killers, man. We aren't him._

_What's the point of rounding up these animals if they just get let out again? What's the point?!_

_Look, man, I don't know, but you're fucking scaring me, killing him won't bring back your goddamn parents._

_Like hell it well, but it sure as hell won't bring him back either._

_Jack..._

_I just saved your life, the least you could do is thank me!_

_This is a dark path you're looking down, we don't need to become the people we're trying to stop._

_It's not my fault! It's this horrible world we live in!_

_Dammit man, will you at least listen to reason?! Killing people doesn't solve shit!_

_Well here it does, Gawain. Might as well get used to it._

_Jack..._

_*The figure stirred, a pathetic sight under the faint moonlight that poured in from the warehouse vents*_

_*As the man looked up, he caught the glint of rage, the controlled features of the dark haired alchemist, fists clenched, one hand flipped open the ancient tome.*_

_This is for my family, and everyone else you twisted bastard._

_Jack, No!_

_VA'AN RAI KET!_

_NOOOOO!_

* * *

The familiar hum of energy. A moderate, steady, physical drain as the Tome began feeding his metabolism onto the pages, ripping out a portion of his life energy to

fuel the transmutation being forced into existence.

It was extremely taxing to use ones own body for offensive transmutations. However, there was no willing participant in which energy could be taken from, and the

summoner was already too exhausted from his own defensive spells to provide anything substantial without further injuring or even killing himself.

He knew the costs. Self transmutations were always dangerous, as prolonged or incredibly complex spells would exact a heavy toll that would leave the user

completely and utterly defenseless, not to mention the long term effects that affected ones body, that was the worst, by far.

As such, this form of alchemy was the utter last resort, however, there was no other alternative.

As the words left his mouth, the pages flared to life, a brimstone yellow light erupted from the book as the energy was drawn from the tome.

"As the twilight turns to dust, so shall you!" Right hand swept to the side, the air began to warp, tears in the dimensional rift opened as the transmutation forcibly

collapsed all nearby matter into a post-dimensional warp, effectively erasing anything caught in the midst of the black hole completely.

That is what it was of course. A black hole, much to everyone's dismay.

Gawain did not expect a black hole.

"WHAT IS THIS WITCHCRAFT?! I AM THE BUTCHER OF THE SANDS! I WILL NOT BOW TO YOUR SORCERY WEAKLING!" Despite the frenzied words, the dark gravity

steadily drew the enraged crocodile into its now swirling depths, a gaping maw of black, grass and dirt flung into the endless depths, crushed.

The summoner also had been caught in the collateral damage, desperately reaching for any purchase, hood thrown back, eyes frantic as the immense pull dragged

him closer to the void.

The pages of the tome flipped rapidly as it channeled the energy. Gawain knew this was very wrong, he knew that feeding anymore energy would result in a massive

shutdown of his vital functions, he simply couldn't sustain something of this enormity for such a long period of time, it was killing him.

However, the transmutation wouldn't release its hold upon his own life force, he was being drained rapidly.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The transmutation was simply an offensive impact spell, meant to incapacitate the crocodile, when the tome had drawn much more energy then he had initially

expected, he knew that something was very wrong.

"GAWAIN! STOP THIS MADNESS!" The summoner clawed upon the dirt, a mere couple feet away from the void, sheer force of will alone kept the massive crocodile

standing as he madly slashed arcs into invisible foes, eyes red with rage, struggling to break out of the maw's vice.

What the hell did he do? The tome violently shook as his energy reserves dropped dangerously low.

He had to close the book, cut off the link before he was consumed by the transmutation.

A second, a fleeting moment in time as he glimpsed at the two figures, inches away from the hole...

Snap.

The loud suction of the hole completely stopped, eerily silent for a split second, before collapsing upon itself, releasing its vice hold upon the now gasping crocodile

and summoner.

They all sat there, exhausted from the ordeal. Even Renekton, though his red tinged eyes remained, breathed heavily, the fight taken out of him, clearly too shocked

to continue his territorial quarrel any further.

The summoner sat on his shins, arms over his knees as he made a grimace.

"Maybe you should have let me handle it, I was fine, you know."

Somewhere, deep inside, Gawain nodded, however, the exhaustion and severe overall depletion of his bodily functions allowed only a slight twitch as he swayed

dangerously, side to side.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Then he fell, vision began to dim, darkness encroached upon the edges of his closing eyelids, the last thing he saw, was the face of that monstrous crocodile,

impassive, as the summoner said something, eyes narrowed with...Malice? hate? Concern? It was an unreadable mask.

Then it all faded to black.


	5. Fast Recoveries

**Institute of war, 4th floor, Damacian Medical Ward, Eastern Wing**

**Patient: Gawain Rowanfelt**

**Features: Brown eyes, brown hair, standard traveler shirt and tresses.**

**Height: 5"6**

**Age: 22**

**Afflictions: Extreme fatigue, minor lacerations and cuts**

**Status: Champion**

**Affiliations****: None. Features suspect a relation to Freljord.**

**Summoner/Ward: Sayble Aiken**

**Age: 26**

**Rank: 30**

**Status: Pending...**

**Addendum: Performance has proven to be poor, further demonstration of failure will result in demotion or loss of immediate rank.**

* * *

It was bright...

Too bright...

The first thing he felt was a runic needle being placed under his forearm, somewhere down the point it had drawn blood and was monitoring his now steady

heartbeat.

With a frown, Gawain sat up, hands to his eyes, the open currents let in a huge flood of light that he was not accustomed to.

"You are up, surprising, the ward told me that you would require another week at least before any signs of consciousness would return."

What, _another _day?!

Holy shit, how long had he been out?!

You were unconscious for 3 days, the league match that had been scheduled for you has been postponed due to your condition, I assure you that no one

was inconvenienced by this slight change of plans."

Again, that frustration began to build up. Why the hell did he have to do something so rash? So _stupid? _

He cursed himself. _Something in that goddamn hill must have interfered with his transmutation, even with all of his experience, there was no way in hell that he could_

_summon a black hole, let alone sustain and control_ one.

He shouldn't have attempted to interfere, the summoner obviously had things under control.

_Always gotta be the hero, eh?_

The summoner did not pry him about anything, nor did he question his ability to control the black void that was accidentally summoned on the fields the day before.

"Hey."

"Yes?"

"Mind telling me what the hell that giant crocodile was?"

A small smile alighted upon his lips, "Ah, that was Renekton, the nefarious butcher of the sands, many champions give him a wide berth, as his rage is practically

uncageable, and as a result been given his own space to prowl around on during his own personal time. This is for his health as much as everyone else."

"Why's he so _mad _all the time? I mean, he practically got riled up because we were standing on the same dirt pile as he was." He remembered the burning eyes,

the expression that only a pure, undiluted, hatred could exude. A shudder.

"Renekton is an entity that hails from a different world. His original purpose was to guard a forbidden knowledge against the unworthy, a gatekeeper of

an ancient library."

"So he lost his job, what's the deal? standing in front of a door all day doesn't sound that fun to begin with."

"He dutifully guarded the gate for thousands for years, however, the corruption of those before him finally took its toll. Eventually, he was driven mad and the way for

him has long since been lost, as has his sanity, and so he lashes out, driven by hatred and rage."

Another pause as Gawain took in the information, the summoner absently watched the morning sun rise through the half opened shutters.

"That's pretty tragic." He muttered.

"Indeed, it is. To lose ones mind is worse then any variant of death, for what is a soul without purpose? A husk, a mere shell."

"You can be pretty depressing, you know that?"

"I only speak what is truth, every champion here has come with a purpose in mind. Renekton has none, save for the destruction of his brother, 'depressing' would

not describe the anguish derived from a life of misery."

"Brother? That guy has a brother?"

"Yes."

"Holy shit."

Another pause.

"Nasus was the older of the two siblings, and so he was given the rite of passage, the task of librarian, to grant this knowledge to those deemed worthy enough

to enter his domain."

"So...what happened?"

"Simply, Renekton turned on his older brother, too far gone to reason with, and so Nasus was forced to strike him down."

"Doesn't explain why these guys are here in Runeterra though, or what actually happened afterward..."

"No one knows exactly what happened after that, except that the turmoil had summoned these two entities into our dimension. Nasus has adjusted as well as he

could to fit this environment, the same cannot be said for the younger sibling, for when he arrived, it took the effort of 10 summoners and the champions controlled to

bring him under chains, frenzied and completely insane in the middle of a league match.

Gawain frowned.

"So he's basically here to kill his big bro?"

"That is precise, yes. We do not know the method in which Renekton has come to Runeterra, but his intentions are clear, what will happen after that, we do not know,

only that he is willing to comply with our rules and that he hasn't blatantly harmed another champion on these institute grounds."

_When the time comes, are you willing to kill your own comrade?"_

_Everything we've been through, does it mean anything to you?_

_Only that the means to an end justify the means, Gawain, when you have the chance to pull that trigger, you pull_ _it._

He actually felt a certain kind of sorrow for the reptile.

Corrupted.

With the single goal of revenge.

Only room for one.

A familiar one.

_I'll find you Jack, I swear_ _it._

His thoughts were interrupted as the ward entrance was opened, in came a female nurse wearing a white cap with a rather standard, albeit...tight fitting white

uniform that had rolled sleeves and tresses that barely covered the inner thighs, with a long pair of white and red stockings that covered the entirety of her legs. A

ponytail and almond shaped brown eyes betrayed her rather soft features.

She turned to the summoner and nodded, a mutual level of respect between the two was obvious, Sayble had a reputation around here, he noted.

"Greetings summoner, how fares your champion?"

"He feels well, although I do not know if he has made a full recovery."

At this, she turned to Gawain, who's back was on the bed stand, an apprehensive look on his features, scrutinizing her presence.

He didn't like her.

"Sir Gawain, you have awoken, do you feel well?" Her voice was clear, a soft high soprano that carried an air of seriousness. A tone he recognized, found in battle

veterans. Casual, yet slightly on edge, always ready, always wary.

Something told him that she did other things as a nurse full time.

Gawain merely cocked an eyebrow, he couldn't really get an exact read on her, was she some kind of fighter? She didn't dress the part, that was for sure. Maybe he

was over thinking things, although no one called him Sir unless they knew he had a history of military experience, which no one here besides the summoner knew of.

In response to the odd stare, she turned her head slightly, taken aback by his awkward demeanor.

"Sir, Gawain...?"

"I can fight if that's what you're asking, I feel pretty fine as of right now." His voice was a little harsher then he expected, although she didn't flinch at the tone.

"I see, well," She turned back to the summoner, a hand reached back to pull out a piece of parchment, runic inscriptions scribbled onto it before reading out loud.

"Your next match has been rescheduled to be 2 days from now, please attend the summoning chamber located on the 3rd floor of the institute of war during the

afternoon."

"Thank you Akali, we will be ready by then."

With a short bow, the nurse slowly backed out before shutting the hospital doors behind her, leaving the two figures alone.

After a couple moments, her footsteps out of earshot, Sayble turned a concerned face towards Gawain.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah I told you I can fight."

"I did not mean that."

"What? What's the problem? Nothings wrong."

"You seemed troubled by her presence."

"I guess you could say that."

"Why?"

"Why? What do you mean why?"

"Well there has to be a reason, she was the one who monitored your health for 3 days."

"Well then shit, tell her I said thanks for doing her job, right?"

Sayble let out an exasperated sigh as he resumed hunching over, gaze casted towards the hospital floor.

After a moment, he said

"Your match is in 2 days, we will have to prepare you for that. When you are ready, we will check out of the eastern wing and head towards the fields of justice, I

want to familiarize you with the battleground before you actually begin a real match. Preparation would be wise, as this is your first ever match.

"Alright, well, I guess I'm ready when you are, eh guy?"

He nodded.

"Lets go."


	6. Fast Learner

**Well...it's been quite a stretch hasn't it? Heh, well, then, I would like to thank those who read this so far, I haven't really been satisfied with how my story has turned out to be honest. Characters have been as true as I could put them though. Maybe I just don't play this game enough, maybe I'm just not** **so hot at first person narrative. Probably the latter =P**

**Fuck it, here we go.**

* * *

Welcome, to the Summoners Rift

It was disorienting, to say the least. As the platform began to glow white, his consciousness had been invaded, melded by another source.

"Relax, your mind is adjusting to the changes, do not reject my advances, for this is an intended effect of being summoned onto the fields."

Only when his feet had landed firmly upon the summoner platform did he realize who the voice was.

"Alright, so you can talk to me with your mind, any other stuff you wanna let me know about, you know, before I go running off, yeah?"

"To your left is a shopkeeper, I want you to buy a dorans ring from the counter."

"What the fuck is-"

"If you look in the satchel given to you, there will be a standard 475 gold, you can buy one and still have enough for a health potion."

Sure enough, as he reached for the leather pouch, the familiar clinking of coins resounded in response to his movements.

"So...I just...ask for one?"

"Yes."

Gawain took a couple steps toward the counter, behind of which stood a rather pudgy looking...creature of a large stature. A fat snout protruded

from his cranium.

"Hey." He began awkwardly.

The creature gave him a sideways look, then frowned, hands placed upon his sides "I haven't seen you around, are you the new champion?"

"Yeah, i'm pretty new." A nod.

"Alright, so waddaya want kid?"

"One of those dorans rings, and a health potion I think."

A moment as the large figure rummaged around in the back, the sounds of metal and such being moved ajar were heard as he slammed a blue,

metal ring and a flask of red fluid onto the wooden table with a resounding thud.

"Ere you go lad, don't drink it all in one place, haha."

A moment as he put on the ring, it fit snugly unto his left index finger, the flask was placed into a slot next to the satchel.

"Alright, so now what?"

"Make your way down to the middle lane, in real matches, you will be expected to go there as a magic wielder, however do not be surprised to be

sent elsewhere, the rules of the battleground are ever changing, as must you."

"Right, right." Gawain began to trudge down the platform stairs, towards the middle route, a dirt pavement marked the path.

"What is that shit?" A huge, crystal monolith lie in the center of the base, energies flaring brightly as whatever powered the thing was sealed inside.

"That is the nexus, it is a magical construct that links a summoner to a champion, thus allowing a connection between the two. The goal of your

team is to destroy their nexus, thus ending the link and effectively ending the game."

Gawain made a slow jog down the dirt pavement, a thick canopy of forest blanketed each side of the road, obscuring his vision of anything beyond

his designated region.

"Stop once you reach the outermost turret, those large statues with swords."

After a few minutes, he had reached what he thought was the farthest checkpoint, a huge statue with a stone sword and a crystal.

"So, what do I do now?"

"**Minions have spawned!"** A feminine voice reverberated throughout the fields, throwing Gawain into a defensive stance, hands placed over his book.

"What the hell was that shit?"

"These will be your automated footmen. In order to progress through the match, these small warriors will die willingly as well as fight for you to their

last breaths. Killing the opposing minions will grant you gold and experience, a commodity found only on the fields of justice. If you wish to further

your progress, killing them is mandatory."

"Alright, that sounds simple enough...So, you just want me to practice here for a bit?"

"Yes, seeing as I have never seen you actually display your skills, it would be wise for me to step back and offer only occasional inputs."

"Alright, pretty easy, kill minions, kill nexus."

"Be wary of the enemy towers, they will cut you down at your current strength without a doubt."

"Right."

Minutes passed, the minions arrived and with his book drawn, proceeded to destroy the automated warriors with simple impact transmutations.

They fell without a hitch, he felt a strange swelling as runes began to glow upon his skin.

"What's going on?"

"You have just advanced your current strength level. On these fields, your strength is divided into 18 chunks, once you have advanced 18 times, you have reached

your maximum potential, and your strength will be equal to yours off the battleground."

"So right now, I'm basically 1/18th of my actual self?"

"Indeed."

"Well that fucking sucks."

"Patience is a virtue, it is also a strategy, if you can advance yourself faster then your opponent, you gain the numerical edge in strength, and so your lane can be

'won', so to speak, either by killing them or the tower, or both."

"My opponent? You mean, I'm not just fighting these minions and shit?"

"In a real match, you will not have the luxury to calmly sit here and become stronger, there will be another champion who will compete with you for experience and

gold, so you must fight them with the skills you have at hand, be it sorcery, raw power, skill, or finesse."

Soon enough, Gawain had re-learnt parts of his former skill set, being able to summon forth walls of energy and throw waves of matter at his opponents, the tome

would answer to previously locked transmutations.

Eventually, he had pushed the enemy minion wave back to their tower, in which he promptly destroyed it after a minute or so.

"Good, you show promise, now continue on until the nexus has been destroyed."

"Easy enough, yeah?"

The next 10 minutes were spent with Gawain patiently destroying minions and taking out towers. Eventually, the Nexus fell and the match was over.

Upon the destruction of the Nexus, an invisible force teleported him onto the summoner platform back at the institute, in which a cloaked figure, Sayble could be

seen standing beside a runic orb that swirled with an odd, misty energy, obscuring what was inside.

"So uh, how did I do?"

"Excellent, I look forward to working with you in a real-"

"YOU! I HAVE BEEN LOOKING FOR YOU HUMAN!"

Shook, Gawain turned to the right, the entrance was barred by a familiar looking reptile, eyes burned red in the dark surroundings.

His jaw dropped, could that thing really have followed him all the way just to kill him in this stupid room?

"Dude, what the fuck man?!"

"Renekton, we do not wish to combat you, especially upon institute grounds, you would do well to obey these set rules."

With a swift movement, the reptile grabbed the hem of Gawain's collar, and violently lifted him into the air.

"Hey could you not grab that? You're ripping the fabric and this is my second to last shirt here!" It was hard to breath, seeing as Renekton's large grip constricted

the cloth around his air pipe. Struggling did nothing, as the reptile possessed a level of strength that was inhuman, easily able to kill him with a snap of his wrist.

"YOU AND I HAVE A SCORE TO SETTLE, AND IT WILL BE ON THESE FIELDS THAT I WILL STAIN RED WITH YOUR BLOOD."

At this, he realized what the reptile was asking for.

A one on one.

On the fields of justice.

He would lose. Hard. That thing was a monster. Literally. Pleadingly, he looked over to Sayble, who let out a sigh.

"Please, Gawain here is a new comer, you will not gain anything from beating a newbi-"

"DO NOT LECTURE ME, HUMAN. HIS WITCHCRAFT SAVED HIM LAST TIME, ON THE FIELDS OF JUSTICE THERE SHALL BE NO SUCH THING TO HOLD ME BACK, YOU WILL

LOSE CHAMPION!"

The reptile shook him violently as he practically screamed each word directly into Gawain's face. Apparently a breach of etiquette was in order.

"C'mon, you're wasting your time, you win, alright? There, you beat me, I have nowhere to go and you can leave knowing I suck and you're better, right?"

He desperately needed to breath, the grip only tightened, however, at these words. Renekton's eyes flared red.

"SUMMONER! I DEMAND A MATCH WITH YOUR CHAMPION, I WANT YOU TO WATCH HIS DEMISE AS MY UNCHAINED FURY WREAKS HAVOC UPON HIS FRAIL BODY!"

Sayble opened his mouth to reply, when a large number of footsteps filed into the room.

It was a crowd of summoners, their robed appearances masking the shock perceived from a giant crocodile in the room.

One of the figures, a tall, lanky man with a shaved head turned towards Sayble, a slight look of disapproval in his eyes.

"Sayble, your track record has not been favorable, you are stepping on thin ice, now **_what is the meaning of this?!_**

If Renekton was surprised from the sudden intrusion, he did not show it, only the narrowing of his eyes betrayed any sense of anger, the grip did not lax as Gawain

struggled with the iron hold.

"We had a scheduled practice session and were going to leave, however, Renekton has barred our way and is requesting a league match between my champion

and himself.

The shaved man shook his head, "Is this a game to you? This match will decide whether or not Noxians may continue to harvest resources in Ionian territory. You and

I both know the stakes here, a loss for the Ionians may instigate another war, do you want that? Or is this little grudge between your friend and that reptile more

important then the regions of two major factions?

For the first time, Sayble looked visibly distressed, his cool demeanor replaced with a mask of seething rage. His next words were spoken through clenched teeth.

"I was not aware that there was an actual match scheduled today, we will be on our way shortly, as soon as Renekton lets him go."

At this, all eyes turned to the Crocodile, who adamantly refused to respond, his eyes bored into Gawain's now purple face, almost blacking out from the pressure.

"Let him go, we have a match in almost 3 minutes from now, we cannot continue on until you both leave."

Then the silence was broken, as Renekton exploded into a violent rage.

"I DO NOT CARE FOR YOUR PETTY WARS, HUMAN, I DEMAND A MATCH WITH THIS CHAMPION, NOW SUMMON US UPON THE PLATFORM BEFORE I DESTROY YOU ALL FOR

YOUR IMPUDENCE!"

A stunned silence. Everyone knew better then to defy the demigod's wishes, especially during a rage such as this one (which was always).

A wry smile. "see what I mean?" Sayble sighed and apologetically looked over to Gawain, who was still kicking for dear life.

The shaved man, however, merely narrowed his eyes, voice becoming deadly quiet.

"Listen, here, you are on your last straw, summoner, if this Crocodile is not out in 2 minutes, I will-"

"What the hell is going on back there? Hurry the fuck up and put us on the fucking platform will you?"

A redhead with long hair poked her head around the platform entrance, her piercing green eyes paid no notice to Gawain's plight, merely that this group of

summoners were wasting her precious time. Knives could be seen attached to her leggings and waist belts. A scar rain down her left eye, marring the otherwise

attractive face that most would only see once.

Before anyone could reply, she huffed and withdrew her presence, gone in a flash.

Another voice.

"You have two minutes, Havel, the match will be starting soon, broadcasted live to all of Valoran."

The man named Havel swore, he knew that they wouldn't be able to start. Literally, because of this crocodile, who refused to leave.

He turned a furious gaze towards Sayble. It was all his fault.

"You." He advanced, the summoner remained impassive despite the accusations, "You! This match will be cancelled because of your little antics! If this match

does not start, I will not hesitate to report your unacceptable behavior to the headmaster, and this time, he will not be so lenient!"

Sayble did not respond, mouth drawn into a grim line, eyes narrowed as sweat began to bead around his forehead.

Then Renekton spoke, in a low growl, a wicked light shone beneath his now livid eyes.

"The human and I." Came the words.

"...Pardon?" Havel cocked an eyebrow, perturbed by the reptiles sudden clarity of thought.

"We shall fight in this league match...whether you agree to or not."

"But...but the champions have already been picked! There is a complete roster on each si-"

"THEN MAKE SPACE FOR US! DO NOT TARRY, SUMMONER, I GROW IMPATIENT OF YOUR HESITANCE."

Havel threw a scowl at Sayble, before reluctantly whispering an incantation into a summoning orb placed upon one of the stone slabs.

After a moment, he spoke.

"I have removed the Wuju Bladesmen and the Chemist for this match, you will both be substitutes for the Ionian and Noxian sides."

"Wait? What?!" Gawain had been silent the whole time, mainly because he was being suffocated, however, the realization that a real match was taking place, and

that he was being forced into one, a broadcasted one no less, was enough to break out of the reptiles grasp.

"Hey man, I'm completely new, I'm gonna gimp whatever side you're gonna put me on, I'm dead weight pretty much, Sayble vouch for me!"

At this, the robed figure shook his head.

"I will be your eyes for this match, listen to what I say and do not panic."

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

"Alright newbie, take your place in the other room, Tavion, you are no longer needed to summon Master Yi, Renekton doesn't need a summoner, Sayble..."

He leaned in close, tightly grabbed his arm, face inches from one another.

"You're in charge of the new guy, also, I'm not bending anymore rules for you, understand?"

He nodded. The grip was released as they took there places, Renekton pushed his large frame under the entrance doors, into the summoning chamber.

Confused, Gawain followed, afraid that the hulking figure would turn and kill him at any time, however, after a couple tense minutes, they reached a similar looking

chamber, this time filled with a different group of people. A colorful bunch to be frank.

Unlike the summoning chamber, however, the room was divided into two sides, each had a runic platform with a figure placed upon it, some waited calmly, while

the majority of the figures threw insults across the room, presumably at one another.

Why this place was so tense, he soon found out, as he caught a glimpse of the arguments taking place.

"What? Scared? Are you afraid of losing this fight just like you lost the war?"

It was the Red head, she jeered and tossed insults along with daggers that narrowly missed their marks, ricocheting off the stone walls with a cling!

The target of these taunts was a blue haired female who said nothing, but bristled as another knife buried itself into the stone wall behind her. The most prominent

feature was these 4 floating blades that twisted defensively as she narrowed her eyes, but did not respond.

"I'll bury you alive, bitch." She continued, "I'll make you wish you never fucked with Noxus you Ionian piece of trash."

At this, the 4 blades spun at an increasingly rapid pace, as if they were a physical outlet for her emotions, the green eyes shone bright with anger, however, she

remained silent, teeth gritted, fists clenched as the redhead threw her head back and laughed.

A figure next to the Ionian, a swordsmen who wore these multifaceted goggles that emitted an odd runic energy, stood up, however his actions were stopped

by the blue haired female.

"It's not worth it."

He made another movement in protest, however the blades barred him from making an angry charge across the room.

"They are not worth it."

Her voice carried a steel tone, however calm it was, the eye of a storm, focused.

"Oh keep telling yourself that, maybe when I cut you up on the fields you'll remember how I killed your brother Zel-"

In a flash, she was struck across the jaw as the Ionian moved at superhuman speed, her figure a blur of motion as the spinning blades reared back horizontally,

preparing to slice through her pale skin.

Then with a puff of smoke, the redhead disappeared, replaced by a cackling laughter. It was sickening to hear, cruel and unusually drawn out.

"Come and fight me you coward!" The steel in her voice did not waver, the blades quivered in midair, ready to strike at a moments notice.

"Irelia please stop, you're not helping things, let them have their quarrel, we shall take no part in it. Stay clear in mind and soul, we shall prevail."

It was another figure, a feminine voice who had a certain celerity to her appearance, most noticeably was the horn protruding from her blue skin.

"But Soraka she-"

"You said it yourself, they are not worth the effort, together we shall prove to them that we are not to be trifled with." Irelia took one last look at the platform, then

reluctantly returned, however the angry look in her eye dissipated, replaced with a mask of indifference, as if she hadn't tried to kill another champion two seconds

prior.

They all stood, prepared for the summoning. With a poof, the redhead had reappeared and had taken her place on one of the westernmost summoning dais.

The match was about to begin-

**"ATTENTION CHAMPIONS OF NOXUS AND IONIA! WE HAVE HAD A CHANGE IN THE ROSTERS FOR THIS MATCH! MASTER YI AND SINGED SHALL**

**BE DISQUALIFIED, THE SUBSTITUTES WILL ARRIVE** **SHORTLY."**

That was when all eyes turned to him.

"Shit."


	7. Hot Drinks

**Institute Cafeteria**

"I cannot believe this!"

The Wuju Bladesmen sat alone, situated in a secluded corner of the mess hall. The blade he had polished and sharpened for the match lay by

his side, unused.

He was looking forward to this day, this was his chance to make those Noxians pay for destroying his homeland. For killing his countrymen...

for everything.

And they took it away from him, just like his family, just like his friends.

Only the control and willpower gained from intense meditation and training prevented him from attempting to force his way unto the summoning

platform when he realized he would not be participating in the match.

The Ionians knew he was their most ardent warrior, and he was going to be absent.

Frustrated, a seething rage bubbled dangerously close to the surface of his emotion, barely suppressed as he took another sip from his tea cup.

The taste was bitter.

"How bout a drink? Something more...chemical."

The voice was familiar.

The bladesmen turned to a man clad in rough bandages, the bottom half of his face down to the jaw masked by the material.

"Singed?! What brings you here, and why are you not in the match?"

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Ionian." The bandaged chemist sat down across the stunned Master Yi, pouring an amber liquid into

a flask.

"So...how about a drink?"

"No, I do not trust your kind."

"Hmm, well trust me or not, we both know that neither of us should be down here, and instead should be up there."

He glanced up at the large broadcaster orb on the top of the cafeteria walls. A bandaged hand reached for the amber flask.

"I was disqualified, someone has taken my place." It was hard to maintain a neutral voice, Yi's emotions flared at the thought of another taking

his rightful place on the dais."

"I thought so, I'm here for the same reason."

Rather then answer, Yi simply stared at the cup, sick from the turn of events.

"Hey, that looks like Renekton."

"What?"

At this, Yi started and faced the broadcaster orb.

Sure enough, the reptilian deity savagely roared as he spawned on the summoning platform, right behind...

"Irelia?!"

The bladesman could not contain himself any longer.

"I will not stand for such a thing to fight for the Ionians!"

He couldn't see the expression on Singed's face, as the bandages blocked most of his features. However, his eyes crinkled in amusement.

The mess hall was becoming increasingly packed, large amounts of champions chattered and bustled through the large double doors, some excited,

some bored, some downright cynical (Chogath was simply here for the food).

The Ionia vs Noxus league match was going to begin in one minute. By then, the entire room was filled, even the table Yi and Singed had occupied

was now cramped as a yellow haired male hastily sat down with a tray of food, along with a masked, burly figure and a female with white hair,

a broken sword lay on her lap as there was no more space for any others.

"Yi! Why are you down here? Shouldn't you be up there fighting for the Ionians? And uh...hey Singed."

The chemist simply nodded, then turned toward the white haired female, who gave him a scowl.

"I have been disqualified from the match, as has Singed, we will spectate from here, however we are not allowed to fight."

"What? Why?"

"What do you mean why, Ez, you sound like an asshole when you pry into things too much, just let him have his drink."

"But-"

"Alright guys drinks on me, Yi, you especially, I wouldn't really take that shit off of Singed here, sorry bud."

"None taken." Was the nonchalant reply.

"Yeah, yeah, alright Ez, shut up and get the drinks."

"But you just said-"

"Hey, you still owe me that 25 gold, now get your ass over there and get us the damn drinks."

Grumbling, the yellow haired male got up and stomped over to the beverage serving Gragas, a large man with rosy cheeks and a busting waistline.

"Jax, it is okay, I do not drink-"

"Well you don't drink _yet, _you look like you could use a little pick me up, eh?"

He clapped the bladesman roughly on the shoulder, leaned over to whisper.

"Seriously, drinks on me, whatever you did, don't hit yourself too hard for it, alright?"

"I- thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, EZ! IT'S BEEN A MINUTE, IT DOESN'T TAKE THAT LONG!"

"I'm tryin', sheesh'! The line is so long, are you even looking?!"

"Shaddap and get the drinks, I'm dying of thirst over here!"

Yi made a wry smile as the explorer finally returned, passing a mug to both Jax and Yi, before returning to his seat besides the white haired female, who sat, deep

in thought.

"Not much of a drinker Riven, or what? Ez told me you could down a mug in half a second."

She started, broken from her state of thought.

"Oh! I appreciate the drink, thank you, I will finish it, do not worry."

"So who you rootin' for? Me and Ez were thinking Noxus, but with that Renekton guy around, I'm thinking about puttin maybe 100 gold that the Ionians take home

the win today, eh Ez?"

"Hell yeah! I mean, when was the last time that monster actually lost a match?"

They shuddered in unison. Renekton truly was a force to be reckoned with.

"I do not bet."

"Uh, yeah, I know, but who do you think is gonna win?"

No answer as Riven stared into her drink, complacent, withdrawn back into her train of thought.

At this, Singed chuckled, causing the the female to start once more, broken by his maniacal laughter.

"What is it?" Jax was slightly perturbed, it wasn't that funny to begin with, maybe Singed just had a bad sense of humor.

"She cannot choose, that's the answer. Being a Noxian, however, I would say that Riven is either too much of a coward to side with her own countrymen, or that

she has the hots for Irelia."

Riven looked up, eyes wide.

"What did you just say?"

"I said you're a coward who can't-"

"No, about Irelia, what did you just say...?"

He had her full attention at this point. Her red eyes bored into his masked visage, frozen in place.

"I said you had the hots for her, but that's not the point, the point is that you're a coward who-"

"I do not! I do not have the hots for her, who told you that?"

Her cheeks were red at this point, and she was breathing heavily, as if a raging battle had been fought right there in the cafeteria.

A stunned silence around the table, Singed appeared slightly thrown off, apprehension, then confusion settled into his masked features.

"No one...I was just...jesting, but you're a coward, you know that...right?"

She didn't hear him, rather, she downed her mug in one go, with a "Look at her go!" from Jax as she did so.

When she finished, her cheeks were even redder, and her eyes were bright with a fervor no one had ever seen before.

Needless to say, Yi had no idea what was going on in this scene.

She clumsily reached over and grabbed the collar of Singed's apparel, and shook him vigorously, almost desperately.

"Who told you?! Did she tell you?! If she did, don't believe her, she's a dirty, filthy liar, and so are you, because I definitely. Positively. Do not. Have the hots. For her.

Understand?"

"But...but don't you care about what I just called you...? Aren't you going to...do something?"

"I TOLD YOU I DON'T HAVE THE HOTS FOR HER! YOU DIRTY LIAR!"

She let go, and slumped down her chair, delerious, face burning, and took another heavy drink off of a stunned Ezreal's mug, downing the whole thing in one go,

before passing out on the table.

"Well...that was something." Yi mused.

"Good going Singed, you really are a ladies man."

"Yeah Singed, you asshole, you made her take my drink!"

But he did not respond, merely sat there, heavily disturbed by had just transpired.

"Well, the match is starting, guys, I wonder who's taking your place, eh Singed?"

"Yeah, no one's given any information, haven't even seen the person on the dais yes."

They were right, everyone had been anticipating this match, however, one thing was unsure, and that was who the Noxian substitute was.

"You're right, that is interesting." Singed resumed his cool demeanor, leaning back on his chair to get a better view of the orb.

"Alright, Ez, 100 gold, Ionia's got this in the bag."


	8. How To Lose Your Lane 101

"Ah shit, ah shit, ah fuck!"

What was going on, Gawain barely had any idea, except that he was absolutely **not **supposed to be here.

_"You better not fuck up, or else I'll fuck __**you**__ up, got it?_ _I have no idea why the hell you're taking Singed's place, but you better make sure we win, or else."_

The redhead threatened him at knife point, a merciless sneer plastered onto her features as she did.

They did not like him, no not at all.

_"An outsider? What gives you the right to meddle in the affairs of others? You better make sure we win,_ _upstart. I won't do anything, but Katarina will." _

Why couldn't they have placed him with the Ionians?! Hell, anyone looked more agreeable then the assholes he was stuck with...

No one had spoken to him after that, only that he was a substitute and their valuable top laner was gone thanks to him.

Top...

"So...is anyone gonna give me some directions?"

**"Minions have spawned!" **

"Don't fuck up, asshole, and I might not have to kill you after this match." Was the only reply from the redhead, darting off towards the middle lane.

One of the Noxians, a moustached, very well muscled man gave him a wide smile. Axes spinning as he began to test the weight of his weapons.

"Well, well, looks like our little warrior is a little, shaken, Draven _loves _shaken."

"...What?"

"No idea what that was supposed to mean, but Draaaven _looooves_ shaken." He laughed, then trounced off towards his bottom lane, accompanied by

a purple haired female that wore a torn dress, a swirling mass of dark energy trailed closely behind.

"...How was that supposed to help?!"

A couple seconds in, and Gawain was the only one on the platform.

"Shit, well I think I gotta buy..."

_"A dorans ring, a potion." _

"You fucking asshole, you put me up to this!"

_"Do not fret, Gawain, listen to my voice and stay alive, this is just like before."_

"Hoh! Just like before, eh? You know, except there's 4 people on this team who fucking hate my guts and a crocodile who wants me for breakfast.

Oh yeah, if I lose, that redheaded chick with knives said she was gonna _cut me up after the match! _Bullshit this is just like before!"

_"You are taking the top lane. Remember, this is a broadcasted match, so be steady, do not rush things, and furthermore, listen to me, I shall be your_

_most important tool for survival." _

A dull realization began to sink in.

"Yeah, well fuck you too."

He silently swore for a bit and began the trek up the northernmost dirt road, following the purple minions that seemingly popped out of the giant, glowing

Nexus, their small stature made them appear relatively harmless, save for the drills and the swords and spiked clubs, of course.

_"Your opponent will be Irelia, the Will of the Blades._"

"Like, she is part of a faction called will of the blades or...?"

_"No, she is literally the will of the blades, keep your distance, as she will attempt to close with you whenever there is a chance."_

"Man, I really wished I just stayed in my room today."

_"As did I, however, you are almost at the tower, stay behind your line of minions and never attempt to stray out into the jungle."_

"Eh?"

_"The thick canope that surrounds each side of the lanes is inhabited by powerful creatures that may only be defeated by specially suited champions who are able to withstand_

_their blows at this point of the match, their jungler is Renekton, so do not leave your lane."_

"Great."

He had reached the tower, minions already had clashed and were cutting one another down en masse.

A couple meters behind them stood a blue haired female, 4 floating blades spun as she dashed from minion to minion, effectively ending their lives with graceful

strokes.

"Holy shit, she's gonna kill me."

_"Do not worry, you have the advantage of range, if she wishes to engage you now, your minions will come to your aid_-"

"State your name, Noxian."

"Huh?"

"I said, state your name." She had her eyes dead set upon him, blades hovered dangerously over her back as she cut down another minion, eyes never taking their

unwavering gaze off of him.

"Gawain, uh, this is a big misunderstanding by the-"

"Do not attempt to feign weakness, Noxian" She growled, expression hardening, blades beginning to spin again.

"You will pay for desecrating our grounds, I do not care what Soraka says, I will cut you down, along with your Noxian comrades!"

Then, with a sweep of her hands, she cleared the front line of his minions and instantly dashed within inches of his face, blades axed in a slashing crescent.

"GAH!"

She had cut him cleanly across the abdomen, had this not been a real match, the wound would have killed him instantly.

Luckily, this wasn't a real match.

"HOLY SHIT I'M GONNA DIE MAN!" Gawain desperately clenched at the gaping slash that ran from his right chest to his left abdomen, magic stitching the otherwise

fatal cut back together.

_"Relax, use the potion to recover. The blow was deep, but you will survive, focus on killing the minions." _As the female darted back towards her line of minions, a smirk

upon her stone set face, clearly pleased by the solid blow.

"You just told me she couldn't do that!" Gawain fumbled for the book in his satchel, the tome sliding out of its compartment, shaky hands thumbing to a well read

page, an impact transmutation.

_"She shouldn't, however, I must have underestimated her strength, most champions do not go on the offensive until they have advanced a couple more times."_

"Whatever, just...so I start killing these minions right?"

_"That is right." _

"Alright, let's just hope she doesn't pull that shit again, FEI DAN!"

A blast of energy disintegrated a minion. Simple, he felt a clinking in the satchel as gold was magically added to a bottomless compartment.

This continued on for roughly a couple minutes. Gawain was nervous, whenever he went to blast another wounded minion, she tensed, as if she wanted to punish

him for doing so. However, she did not strike and instead focused on her own line, intently cutting down a swath in front of her.

That is, until he stepped a couple inches out of the safety of his minions.

"That's far enough, Noxian!"

She immediately dropped her passive facade and dashed forward once again, blades surging behind her, prepared for a clean slash through his chest.

_"You are both at equal strength, however, fighting on her side of the wave will cause you to lose this trade, as the minions will aid her much more favorably._"

"You say that as if I have a choice! INFERIO!" The pages glowed and he felt a steady drain on his physical strength as it drew from his body to feed the spell.

A split second later, a huge wall of flame torched the entire wave of minions, along with Irelia, who instantly backed off, eyes wide from the heavy burn wounds she

sustained.

Gawain smirked, "Heh, what's the matter, lady? Out of breath? Was that a little too hot for you?"

It was close, as he had just advanced a second earlier, if she had attacked a moment sooner...

She was breathing hard, taking a moment to uncap a bottle of red liquid and downed the solution with a hearty gulp, she grimaced at the bitter taste, and threw the

bottle to the side, where it magically dissipated. She looked less sure of herself then she had a couple moments earlier.

_"You have injured her significantly, however, that spell of yours completely decimated the wave that was keeping the line at a standstill. As a result, you have now pushed_

_your minion wave to her tower." _

"Is that a good thing?"

_"Good and bad. It is good because the tower will most likely kill the minions before she can strike them down herself, denying her gold. However, you will be forced to step out_

_onto her side of the lane, making you vulnerable to the enemy jungler, Renekton." _

"Oh...great, then should I try killing her?"

_"That is not advisable at the moment"_

"So what the fuck-"

"I can hear you, you know."

Irelia had stopped killing minions, the tower proving too much to compete with and was simply giving him a queer look, her head cocked to her side as she simply

watched him seemingly talk to himself, blades floated limply by, as if they too were intrigued by this display.

Was he crazy? Irelia frowed. Was that the cost of wielding whatever cursed Noxian power he possessed? Alternative personalities that wrestled for control? A

constant state of inner turmoil where he barely kept a sane state of mind? A split soul...?

"Are you...okay?"

That was insulting, why the hell was she talking to him like some mental ward patient?

"Hey, don't give me that look, woman, you're the one who should be asking yourself that soon enough! ...Eh you know, once you're out of that stupid tower range

and all."

A hothead. Irelia noted his demeanor. Easily angered. Was he really supposed to represent the Noxians? If so, he was doing a terrible job at it,

formidable though he was.

He looked normal, rather unusual features for a Noxian, however. Haggard, short brown hair and a rugged chin that was cleanly shaven was not the standard

look for one who hailed Noxus. He did not have those cold, merciless eyes of a killer. Rather, he had rather plain brown ones that made him look...well, plain.

She shook her head. No, he was the enemy, he did not look normal, normal was for Ionians and Demacians and everyone else who this tremulously upheld peace

that barely kept all of these factions united.

"Yes, I will know once I leave tower range, Noxian, because I'll be the one who defeats you this day!"

She let all of her emotions, her hatred channel through, all of it directed towards the figure before her.

Soraka advised her against doing so, as a battle fought through hatred is a battle fought blind.

She did not care, she needed something to hate, Noxus, the war, everything.

And he was someone she could pin the blame on, someone who was supposed to be the face of Noxus, he was her enemy.

She felt that anger, that hatred boil along with her emotions as the tower killed one more minion, the experience gained enough to push her to new limits.

And directed it towards him, his oh so confident grin ignorant of that one unknown fact.

_"Irelia, your transcendent blades are ready._"

She made a grim smile, he would pay for everything that had happened to her countrymen.

_"Tell me when to strike, I am prepared to attack."_ The mental link between her and the summoner, a soft spoken female, was a strong one. They had been through

countless matches where victory hinged on purely the communication between them, and them alone. An inseparable team, she knew the summoner would see

her through this day against the Noxians.

_"You are stronger then him at the moment, now would be the time." _

"Then the time it shall be, Noxian!" The blades whirred in an extremely quick motion, splitting off into different subsets of themselves, hundreds of blades began to

magically form as she poised to throw them all at once.

"Your judgement, look at me and face death with some dignity!" She hated him, she wanted him dead, and these blades would assure that, the will of Ionia as her

weapon.

_"Gawain! Get out of there!" _

But he couldn't, he knew he was screwed the second those blades flew straight towards his completely undefended self.

"Ahh, shit."


	9. Feeding

_Irelia, are you well?_

"I am fine, summoner."

_You looked awfully distressed, did he give you trouble?_

"No, no it wasn't that it was just...Who was he?"

_I do not know, I simply assumed that he was Noxian, why else would anyone fight over such high stakes if they do not support their own countrymen?"_

Irelia balled both her fists, blades returning to their respective positions as she eyed his quickly dissipating corpse.

"He had to be Noxian, no one else would fight under these stakes. **He had to be Noxian.**"

_...Irelia._

With a heavy sigh, she turned towards the minions and proceeded to cut them down, taking advantage of her lane dominance and shoving back towards

the opposing tower...

* * *

"Shit!"

He lie face down, frustrated.

_Gawain_.

"Yeah, yeah I fucked up sorry, I get it, look let's just get back towards the lane, I probably lost this for us already."

_One death does not spell defeat, do not look so glum, we can still win._

"Oh yeah? Oh yeah?! Well anywhere else I'd be fuckin' dead! There are no second chances out there, out in the real world!

A deep breath. Fingers curled upon the stone dais.

"I shouldn't be alive right now, she beat me."

_.._.

"What, nothing to say? Well you're right, we probably can still win, I'm just really pissed off that's all."

With a sigh, Gawain drug himself up to a respectable height, wiping the grim reminders of his recent death off the hem of his travelers shirt.

"Look who gave up first blood."

"...Goddammit."

He knew who it was before the sight of her red hair burned itself into his already bloodshot retinas.

"I should have known a weakling like you had no place on a Noxian team. What, are you some fresh rookie who thought he could be a champion?"

The redhead absently played with a dagger as she mocked him, berated him.

"Hah, that's funny, don't you worry, I was just getting warmed up that's all." It was a vain attempt to keep the color from rising up to his cheeks.

Why the hell did her presence make him so...pissed off?

"So who the hell were you talking to just now anyway?"

"...What?"

"Don't play fucking coy with me, I just heard you face down muttering to yourself like some complete psychopath, is there something I should know

about, like, prescription drug wise or...?"

Why couldn't she just kill him now? Save him the time and effort spent wasted today?

"Look, lady, I got this game in the bag, you can win and I can go back to whatever the fuck I was doing earlier to-"

"Don't you swear around me asshole, or I'll rip your fucking tongue out."

"But you just said-"

"Shut it moron, screw this game up and we screw you up, got it? Now i'll be seeing you, and we better win, because right now, you're off to a pretty

shitty start."

A resigned sigh as he forced himself to trek back towards the designated lane. The losing lane that was.

As he stomped off, shoulders slumped, a slight - if only barely so - smile alighted her lips.

For some odd reason, she had only just met this moron, and was taking some perverse liking to him.


End file.
